“Your people? What about my people?” I’m holding onto the lapels of his coat, and the thick embroidered flames rub my fingertips.
“I’ve got an idea that might help both of our races.”
His statement surprises me. “Really? Include your grandma in whatever you’re planning. She’d do anything to help you.” My fingers release their grip and I smooth his coat. “She’s an evil, devious matriarch.” The image of her pudgy face and gray hair makes me smile “But for some odd reason, I sort of like her.”
“Yeah, she’s the only family member I can tolerate, too.” Reaching into his coat, he pulls out a small black band, about an inch wide. “I’ve got a gift for you. It’ll never make up for everything, but”—he shrugs—“perhaps one day, it’ll at least remind you of the good times we had together.”
Frowning, I stare at the dark bracelet like it’s a spider. “What is it?” The red starburst, about half an inch wide, sits in the middle and shines amid the black metal.
How I despise those three colors.
He reaches for my hand and slips it over my wrist. “It’s a type of storage device, with every album ever released, so you’ll always be able to listen to music. Also, it’s self-charging when worn.”
A smirk flits across his face and lifts his mouth when he locks the band around my skin.
I frown. Why does he look like he just won a battle? Twisting my wrist, I look for the catch, but the metal is smooth and unbroken.
His words replay in my head. Every album ever released.
Excitement makes my limbs tingle. I can listen to any song I want, and this makes me want to break out in dance.
He’s right, it doesn’t make up for any of his lies or past, but still.
“How does it work?” I can hear the eagerness in my voice when I peer at the artwork. Delicate silver metal follows the border of the star, just like the tattoo on his inner arm and on the doors of his quarters. They branch across and under the band to rest next to my skin.
Instead of responding, he brushes a finger over the band. A small holographic screen lights up.
He taps on the projection, then touches his ear and mine.
Soft music begins to play. It’s Coldplay’s “Fix You”.
My insides are twisting and churning. The memory of his voice and guitar lighting up the stars above my head when I danced—lighting up my soul—tears me into pieces all over again.
His arms wrap around my shoulders and pull me close.
I resist at first, anger battling with agony, body stiff and unyielding. My hand itches to punch him in the nose again, but my lips pulse with the thought of petal-soft kisses.
He continues to hold me next to his chest.
Reluctant at first, I begin to relax, and the side of my face rests on his coat. His heartbeat—strong and steady—pounds next to my ear. It belongs to me.
“You’re still an ass.” I snake my arms around his ribs and breathe in the fragrance one last time.
The muscles of his body are taut under my hands. “I know. And you’re still my enigmatic, foul-mouthed spitfire.” The thick coat scratches my cheek.
Through watery tears, Earth spins on her axis, oblivious to her plight from above.
A hand strokes my hair, and the weight of his chin rests on the top of my skull.
The words of the song roll through me, and I’m unable to keep the gaping wound in my soul together any longer. My emotions are a feral animal, backed into a corner and teetering between psychotic rage and crushing sorrow.
“And I still hate your spiky hair and baby monkey face.”
His chest hitches. “Well, I’ll make sure to grow it back, Baltin customs be damned. After you get to Florida, don’t try to hide, because you can’t escape me now.”
“Huh?” The words feel like a promise. A bitter chuckle slips from my throat. “You’re a bastard. What makes you think I’d want to see your sorry ass?”
“Because you’ve never been able to take your eyes off me.”
I pull away. “I’ve just never seen such an asshole like you before, that’s all.” One of my eyebrows lift. “You’re not really going to hunt me down in Florida, are you? Because that’s creepy and sounds a lot like stalking.”
His crooked little tooth pokes at his bottom lip. “I told you I play dirty. You’re mine, and I’m yours, whether you want to admit it or not. I don’t care we’re from different worlds—different solar systems—it doesn’t mean a thing.”
Mommie Dearest’s words float through my head. There’s nothing special about you. You’re an amusement, nothing more.
Everything’s so fucked up. I just want to close my eyes and fall away.
Jareth and I stand before the revolving planet entwined in a last embrace. Drying tear tracks stiffen the skin over my cheekbones.
The music stops.
He plants a tender kiss on the corner of my mouth before backing away to hold me at arm’s length. Inky eyes meet my greens, intent and serious.
Wiping the tears, I sniff and watch Kodiak trying to pull a hose or tube off a ship. Good boy, destroy their crap.
Jareth drags his fingertips over the back of my hands. “I guess this is the part where I have to send you back home.”
My eyebrow lifts when I search the ships lining the bay and walls. “How am I supposed to get there?”
Rolling through the bay, his devious chuckle is loud. “Well, you may not be happy with the arrangement, but Sparky’s driving. He’s the only one I trust.” His tone turns serious. “Plus, you need to stay with him for the time being. He’ll keep you hidden from other Baltins or Carriers.” He rubs a thumb over the bracelet, and then scrapes a fingernail up the inside of my forearm.
Every hair on my body stands straight from the trailing caress.
“You’re joking, right? You honestly expect me to pal around with him once I get to my sister’s house? Are you nuts?”
“Just do it for my piece of mind—” he squeezes my hand “—please?”
I close my eyes and count, inhaling a deep breath with each ticking moment. A groan croaks out of my throat. “Fuck me to tears.”
Jareth’s pupils flare at my words. “And, he’s still disconnected from the network, and I plan on keeping it that way. He’s shown some real growth. It’s safer for him to disappear.”
A callused thumb traces across my jaw before he pulls away.
“I won’t do it for you, Jareth, because I don’t owe you a damn thing.” My fists rub my eyes. “I’ll do it for him, because he’s just as much of a victim of Baltin tyranny as humans are, and at least he’s never lied to me.”
As if on cue, the bay doors open with a hiss.
Sparky walks at a graceful pace, his movements measured. When he reaches Jareth, he lays a gloved hand on one of his shoulders. “Sir, we must leave soon. The Governess is causing a scene at Council.”
He nods, but is silent, dark eyes watching my every move.
“Kodiak, come here. It’s time to go home.” I crush my dog in a tight hug around his scruffy neck.
He licks my face and tries to give me mouth kisses. Disgusted and amused, I try to fight the slobber that comes with the affection.
Pushing his big head away, I straighten.
He continues to leap at my hips with short yips and yelps, blue and brown eyes sparking with excitement.
I grab his paws and let him hug my waist. “Okay, okay, just a few minutes more.”
Wiping my wet face, I turn to Sparky.
“So, I’m stuck with you a little longer. Great. This ought to be a fascinating trip.”
I’m not as annoyed at being stuck with the robot as I would’ve been a few days ago. He’s kind of growing on me, as long as he doesn’t reconnect and turn into a killing machine.
Sparky slips my backpack onto my waiting hands. “Yes, Tilly, I have been instructed to deliver you to your biological sibling. But I am more than just a robot, I am a Carrier. My purpose is to represent and carry out the
cleansing, so the Council is free to continue their work up here.”
In warning, Jareth shakes his head and raises his eyebrows at the robot, which shuts him up.
“Yeah, I really don’t want to hear where he was about to go with that explanation.”
If I had my choice, I’d be happy getting to Florida without any Baltin help—organic or mechanical—but beggars can’t be choosers. Plus, Sparky deserves a chance to learn and grow, free from these insane aliens.
A tension headache tries to make itself known and I rub the back of my neck.
I sigh out a breath. “For fuck’s sake, Sparky, you don’t always have to talk like a computer, and you don’t have to explain every minute detail. Nobody cares.”
His head swivels in my direction. “But I am a computer. I do not understand how else I am supposed to talk. Do you wish me to assume a different voice?”
Glaring at Jareth, who looks like he’s trying to hide a grin, I resist the urge to strangle them both.
I flap a hand at the robot. “Never mind, just forget it. You can’t help the way these jackasses programmed you. Just—just take me home. I can’t get off this ship quick enough.”
And it’s true. Being in space is a constant reminder of humanity’s extinction and my parents’ suffering. Even with their so-called advanced technology and intellectual knowledge, these people are still intent on the age-old desire to conquer and kill, no matter what Jareth says.
The farther I get from this place, and the farther I get from him, the safer I’ll be.
Even if you never see him again, you’re okay with that?
It doesn’t matter if I’m okay with this possibility, and it might be best for the both of us. Forgiveness is something I don’t have in me—something I may never have. All I can think about right now is finding peace with the only person I now trust—Sissy.
Sparky leads us to one of the larger spheres and part of the pod opens. Kodiak follows the robot inside. Once at the opening, the dog turns and retraces his steps to Jareth.
When Kodiak reaches his leg, the dog sits on his butt and lifts a foot. “Woof.”
Jareth stoops on one knee. He reaches a hand and wraps it around the hound’s paw, and they shake.
“Goodbye, Kodiak. Thank you for bringing us together, even if it didn’t end like I hoped.”
I turn from the scene. My heart is spasming inside my chest, and in this moment of weakness, I want to turn around and say forget it, never mind, I was wrong. Something will work out, but then my mantra sings in my head.
Survive and find Sissy. Trust no one.
It’s too bad Kodiak doesn’t heed the trust advice. He went from a cautious sniffer when I found him in the gas station to a happy-go-lucky, trust-any-alien-or-robot-he-sees kind of dog.
My moment of weakness passes, and I’m able to glance in their direction again without sobbing or giving in.
They lean into one another, Jareth’s forehead resting next to the dog’s, and he whispers something.
Kodiak listens, then wags his tail. Letting out a soft yelp, their embrace ends, and the dog heads toward the ship.
I shake my head and begin walking toward the pod.
From behind, Jareth grabs my wrist, forcing me to stop.
Against my better judgment, my body swings around.
“You gave me the purpose and redemption I was looking for, Red. You became an anchor and a compass, bringing out that side of me I thought was long gone.” He lets go. “The moment I saw you fighting on the road was when I could really breathe for the first time in years.”
His face is earnest and open, no ego, swagger or arrogance.
“No matter what I’ve done in the past, remember me as I was when we met. That’s the person I want to be—the man who found his grace in a red-headed girl and her dog. I can’t erase my sins, or the crimes of my people, but I can make a new future for her, and for Earth.”
I burn his face into my memory, into my soul, convinced I’ll never see him again. Even though he’s not the person I thought he was, I cling to a scrap of hope he’s being sincere and might be able to persuade his people to leave and find another planet to terrorize.
Our eyes lock, neither looking away. He craves forgiveness and love, but the betrayal has carved a deep wound into my heart, and I don’t know if it’ll ever heal.
A minute ticks by, and I try to control my mixed feelings. Though he says I saved him, he rescued me, too. Starting with Sparky’s killing electricity, grabbing me when I was falling into the cooking pit at his cave, rushing in blind when I almost got my throat severed, to giving me strength and courage to face my traumas. Those weren’t the actions of a cold-hearted killer—they were the choices of someone with a conscience.
“Jareth, I . . .” These thoughts zip through my head with lightning speed. Does he deserve my forgiveness—to earn my love? The question isn’t whether he deserves it, but whether I deserve it. But right now, all I can focus on is the senseless death and destruction—all for a new home—with no thought for the pain inflicted on billions.
Taking a steady breath, I reach out and fold his fingers into my palm. “I hope.” My throat works and tries to swallow the pain back down. “I hope you find forgiveness, but it’s not something I can give right now. Everything is too fresh, too—”
He holds up a hand, as if to stop the words tumbling from my mouth. “Grandma says love isn’t always perfect happiness. Sometimes, it’s ugly and wrong. What if that’s our story? She also says love is pain, forgiveness, and acceptance. Don’t you think it’s worth trying for?”
Turning my head to the planet that lies just beyond reach, I search for courage. “She told me the same thing. Your granny’s a smart lady—Satan’s sister—but bright.” My thumb sweeps across the rough skin of his knuckles. “Everything’s too convoluted for me. Someday, I hope I can be a better person and learn to forgive, but that day’s not here yet.”
I let go, and the black band around my wrist catches the light. The starburst in the middle shines ruby red. Can I really keep this, a constant reminder of where it came from—who bestowed it? A continual memento of who these people are and what they represent is the exact kind of thing you need.
Rubbing the metal, I hold it higher. A small smile tugs at my lips. “This is kind of cool. Thanks.”
At my words, his crooked grin shines, complete with the deep dimple that I want to poke with a finger. “You’re welcome.” His eyes hold a secret and sparkle with humor.
“Bye, Jareth.”
“Goodbye, Red. I hope you find what you’re looking for. And for my sake, try to stay on your feet and out of trouble.”
Shuffling ahead, I don’t look back when I step into the sphere and the door seals. I take a seat in the craft, and Kodiak sniffs his way around the four chairs. Satisfied, he moves to the seat next to me, sits, and lays his head on my thigh.
I pat his head. “Everything will be all right, boy. You’ll get to meet Sissy soon. Who knows—maybe we’ll even find a house next door. No more hunting rabbits and chasing squirrels, unless you want to.” This daydream lifts my spirits.
Surely, if my DNA survived the virus, then so did hers. If Jareth can get his people to leave us alone, perhaps humanity will be able to rebuild the world one person at a time.
A harness automatically settles over my shoulders, crosses in front of my chest, and latches around my hips.
There are so many variables, so many unknowns right now. I don’t know how I’m going to cope, but I will survive, just like Gloria Gaynor’s song.
Kodiak jumps out of his seat and snuffles his nose along the back of our pilot’s chair. Cocking his head for a moment, he stops and looks at the back of Sparky’s head.
“What’s up, boy?”
He hikes his leg and releases a long stream of yellow urine at the base of the chair.
“Ah, hell, Kodiak.” Groaning, not sure if I want to laugh or cry, I throw my head onto the seat. Well, it’s good to count on
some things never changing.
The vessel flies out of the hangar and into the darkness of space, the image of Earth appearing ever larger. I brace myself for what comes next and prepare for the descent.
About the Author
Melissa Riddell is from a small, West Texas town in which she still lives with her husband. Her writing career started as a hobby when she was a teenager, writing poems and short stories. Eventually, she branched out and began constructing novels. When not contemplating new story ideas, she can be found traipsing around Texas State Parks, herding her cats, or reading a book.
The Descendant: Baltin Trilogy (Book 1) Page 37
